The Shopkeeper
by McGregor O'Brien ap Rhys
Summary: Obi-Wan broke a trinket, and now he's some sort of assistant to a grumpy old antiquarian. Then adventures beyond his wildest dream happen. Shenanigans ensue, a few murder plots here and there, and Bant wielding the power of a hypodermic needle. By now, one would have thought that maybe monitoring the likes of Obi-Wan would have stopped the last eight inter-galactic scandals. SLASH.
1. Auld Man Angus

**Disclaimer: Star Wars is not mine.**

**The Shopkeeper**

**Auld Man Angus**

Coruscant was the centre of the Republic.

Creatures and sentient life of all kinds and of all occupations frequent the planet. They bring trade and culture to the bustling core with dreams and wishes. Usually, these folk carry wares native from their homeland or manufactured goods that went through a hundred thousand processes before reaching their final destination. Different areas and districts dedicated just to purchase were scattered around the planet. Most of these establishments boast the finest and the latest. These structures were grand and their decorations elegant and eye-catching.

However, this story won't be focused on those places. Rather this story was focused on a small antique shop just a few blocks away from the Jedi temple.

The shop was a tiny thing. The windows were made of glass and the curtains were just as frilly as they were dusty. Antique mirrors and cabinets line the walls, while old earth wares and porcelain and China and books and other metal works line the shelves. A counter made of wood was found far behind, while the door next to it led to the parlour, and the hall was the way to the home of the owner.

The owner, on the other hand, was an old man. His face was harsh and hawk-like, his voice was scratchy and gruff, and his eyes shone like a predator focused on his prey. His attitude was certainly no better! He was rough with his hands and his words were always callous and cold. Yet, customers always frequent his quaint and homely shop, perusing his wares and purchasing an odd antique or two.

Those customers, however, were just the mundane customers.

Beyond the world seen, was another world beyond the eyes of the ordinary, visible only to those that have the Sight.

Still, the shopkeeper's attitude remained the same to these people.

However antiques were not what these customers buy. Favors and requests, spells and wards, and maybe the odd charm was what they want. If the price was right, then the shopkeeper would be more than willing to provide.

This wasn't where the story begins.

It begins when one day, a clan of younglings from the crèche were exploring the surroundings under the watchful eye of a crèche master. Anyone reading this would most definitely be familiar with the quartet of younglings that always managed to find trouble or let it greet them and shake their hand. Bant Eerin, Garen Muln, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Reeft's bread and butter were shenanigans. Always landing themselves into jiffies without meaning to. Things would have been a lot more peaceful if these three don't end up in strange situations, but things were a lot more interesting like this.

Little Bant was a year younger than the three eight-year-old boys that were exploring the nearby streets near the Jedi temple. So perhaps it was by the will of the Force, or magic, that led these three to 'The King's Fort Antiques' when the Shopkeeper, whose name was Angus, was busy weaving a charm for a troubled Selkie.

Selkies do not frequent places abundant with humans , let alone places far from water, in fear of their seal skins taken away by a mortal that was a wee bit desperate for a spouse. Children on the other hand were endearing to these sea faeries, since it was always children that gave them keys to their secured skins in the stories. A simple locator charm and anti-theft wards on their seal skins would have done the trick, but in terms of magic simple levitation can have its complications.

The trio managed to sneak in, hiding from the bullies of the crèche, and ancient trinkets did nothing to abate curiosity. Large eyes observed strange gadgets, and small hands fiddled odd mechanisms with surprising care.

What these three don't realize, was that one of them carried a strange ability that had been present in the family for generations, with magic old and new humming and vibrating beneath pale and slightly freckled skin that reacted to the ancient and sentient magic of the Shop. Of course, in these stories, there's just always that one child that carried these strange abilities or conditions that would somehow always place him in a spectrum unique more than anything else.

Rarely, anyone would be surprised to learn that Obi-Wan Kenobi would have these strange powers. Rather he was no longer unique for having something unique because that was always how his stories went. Him being lovable would always depend on how he acted and reacted, which varied from stories that saw him as the main character. One would speculate that giving him a special power was a way to ease the burden from his possible future where he lost everything he loved and cherished, like a higher form of power took pity of him and gave him something no one else could have. Yet these higher powers would guiltily torment him by following almost the exact same course the first version of his life went. Perhaps it was a way to make the reward sweeter than it truly was by increasing the amount of bitterness that touch Obi-Wan's life.

However this story had gone far off track than it should.

It all began when Obi-Wan took an interest on a clear and crystalline sphere with miniature cherry blossoms floating inside whenever it shook. There was an adorable wooden carving of a King and his handsome consort kissing under the shade of the tree, with crowns of flowers atop their heads.

There was a strange hum present on the trinket, it spoke of a story that unfolded a long time ago in a land of faeries and dreams, where names hold power and rules and laws were sideways and orange. A short passage was carved on the wooden base, and a promise of eternal love written beneath quote. It was a beautiful thing, and such a horrid tragedy befell the immortalized memory when the crystal broke, spiderwebs of cracks raced above the surface and the transparent material shattered into a thousand pieces without warning.

Obi-Wan jumped and narrowly avoided the shower of broken glass. Fear shone in his green-blue eyes and guilt tugged his heart.

"Ye'h broke d'is ye'h wee bairn?" Suddenly, the gruff Shopkeeper was right behind Obi-Wan, pipe in hand and a piece of paper on the other. "Ye'h broke it, ye'h hae tae pay for it."

"Oh Angus, just let the wee lad go. I'll pay for it if the bairn cannot." The selkie sidled up to the old man's side and flashed Obi-Wan a soft smile.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan replied, lessons of talking responsibility not quite learned well yet so he was quite willing to let the adult do it for him.

"Ah cannae let ye'h do d'at. Shop policy," Angus placed a wrinkled and worn hand atop a mess of red hair, a few locks trapped between fingers in warning. "Come on, ye'h hae work tae do."

"Wait mister!" Like how most stories go, an improbable ally - or allies, which were Reeft and Garen for now - would rush to save the hero in the right moment when things start to look bad, except this situation was not as grim as it seemed. "We're younglings from the Jedi temple, you're not allowed to force us into anything!"

Huh, that sounded wrong...

Reeft wasn't far behind and the Dressilian boy was nodding in agreement. "You have to speak with our crèche matter instead."

"It's true sir!" Obi-Wan piped up next, who finally found the will to speak up and stopped being passive. One would expect something wittier or more sarcastic from young Obi-Wan, alas that was not so for he was still just a child and he had yet to truly build a better foundation for making insults to people that were not his rivals or bullies from the crèche. There were times some forget such fact.

"Hush now, wee ones, I'll take care of it." The selkie was already counting ancient coins in her purse, some mundane and many enchanted. Despite the belief of many, faeries can be generous, but do prepare an alternative mode of payment if one was not willing to give up their child. Or end up as a consort exposed to endless body horrors to amuse said fae, who most certainly have no basic grasp on mortal morality.

"Ah cannae accept d'at, it's wha' d'a Shop wants." The faerie woman paled at Angus' words and bowed her head in acquiescence. One would think that it was Angus that caused such fear, which was almost always correct, but like most magical faerie shops went, it was the actually sentient Shop that wanted it. How an antique store achieved sentience would be far too complicated to explain on a single paragraph.

"I see..." The selkie looked away and spared the three a pitying glance. "Best you do what Auld Angus says."

"What is going on here?" By the grace of the Force, the crèche master finally sensed the distress of his charges and found himself inside the shop made of wood and stone. The master narrowed his eyes at the ancient hand fisted around a clump of red hair. "I would appreciate it if you unhand the youngling under my care. I wasn't aware hair pulling was socially acceptable behavior."

To prove his point, the Jedi waved his hand and the Force responded immediately, which was by forcibly removing Ye' Auld Angus' clammy man-pincers on the main character's hair and pulling said main character telekenetically behind the man still in his prime. The three boys held hands for emotional support.

The galaxy was in great need of people like this crèche master, a responsible adult figure willing to fight battles for children that were incapable of doing so unless it was among themselves which would then result to years-long grudges and there would be one who would end up dead.

Judging by the last generation of knights and initiates, one would think that perhaps these people learned that their charges should have been taught bullying was bad and such behavior should have been nipped in the bud, all the while explaining why it shouldn't be done instead of turning a blind eye and let the children sort it out themselves. Or watch with amused interest over children's drama better fitted with older and more bitter adults, who were probably doing almost the exact same thing with the occasional bonus of possible murder and illicit sexual affairs. Rather they have great enjoyment over watching a boy demonize himself in the eyes of others that were clearly rooting for a romanticized projection of their younger selves. Instead of say... Explaining such behavior in a better light and hope to show him, if ever there _were_, that his attitude wasn't right and actually explaining it properly and all of its negative effects on another person instead of chewing him out in a humiliating fashion because of his foot-mouth behavior.

Plot derailment. Right.

"It is, in m'ah old Scot-" this was not breaking down the fourth wall by directly referencing an existing nation whose connection to the main character was due to the actor that portrayed him in popular media, like say... A film. Three films, in fact. "Stewjon! Wee bairns shuid pay fer wha' they broke! Free galaxy m'ah arse!"

"I will not allow you to hurt him. The temple would be willing to negotiate-"

"NEGOTIATE?" Angus roared, his voice managed to rattle a few books to fall off from their shelves, and has he been Force-sensitive, the crèche master would have sensed that as a Force-Scream.

"Nae a'h tell ye'h! This Shop wan's d'at boy tae work, an' he will fuckin' work!" All four winced at the profanity, but that wasn't the worse yet because Angus has a better repertoire of swear words. "A'h call bullshit!" Not quite dirty yet, but it will get there.

"Please, not in front of the children," said the still unnamed crèche master with a wince, but since he remained unnamed, it's not like he would be important later on because all the important characters have names.

One would think that Obi-Wan would have said something by now, but the adults were talking and he wouldn't have that much of a heart yet to truly take responsibility because he was a kid and all. So while there was a big human shield willing to be a big human shield, Obi-Wan would take cover for now.

"Ah'right, a'h admit, a'h may nae be t'eh best guardian around, but a'h woud nae hurt hair nae skin unless he's bein' an eejit!" Angus paused and glanced to his side, seemingly intent on listening to something while holding a hand up when the other adult in the room was about to talk. On the other hand, what Obi-Wan saw was an old and scary man talking to tiny and pretty winged humanoids that hovered and glowed. "Ah'right, a'hd negotiate, but a'h want tae speak with ye'h Grandmaster."

"Excuse me?"

"Ye'h heard me. A'h wanna talk wi Yoda. Before y'eh ask, we go way back, betcha before ye'r pa screwed ye'r mum."

The Jedi simply gave Angus an unimpressed stare instead of blushing or giggling a little on the inside while giving himself mental pats on the back, because _yes_, he knew how sex worked and _yes,_ he wasn't a blushing virgin nor was he an immature eight year old. Unlike his three eight-year old charges who were muffling their soft laughter because Auld Man Angus said 'screwed'.

Honestly, who ever gave the impression that just because Jedi were not allowed to form attachments, they were not allowed one-night stands? As a matter of fact, that was where the Jedi were best at. Not that anyone asked because the image of eternally virgin monks seemed to be prominent on most people's minds. Then there were the things some people in the council came up with and Must Never Be Seen Ever Again.

Off-track, again.

"I cannot allow that sir, I'll simply pay for the broken item and leave." The three were now slowly ushered out of the door, and Angus would have stopped them if his frail bones can take a Force Push, but fortunately for our hero that he cannot.

"Jus' watch ye'h eejits." Angus cackled loudly and then he hid in the recesses of his shop.

Two boys watched with slight fear, while the other looked with something akin to curiosity when more miniature humanoids followed and left trails of dusty multicolored glitters in the air.

* * *

It had always been a rule of thumb that whenever someone made threatening promises, they should be taken seriously, otherwise they'd always bite back hard in the arse. Like how the crèche matter should have let Auld Man Angus talk to you'd to at least spare himself from the headache named Obi-Wan, his stomachache called Reeft, and his heartburn diagnosed as Garen. He was too old for these shenanigans.

"Friends in our youth, we were," the tiny green troll said in the most cheerful voice possible. The council chambers only had Master Yoda and Master Windu present instead of the usual twelve, and the crèche master of course. "Second time, seen I have, for Auld Angus have someone work instead of pay for broken wares."

"Aye, ye'r right about d'at." Auld Angus on the other hand, had a package wrapped neatly in brown paper with a string tied around it. His terrifying countenance was further highlighted by the sharp glare he gave Master Yoda. "They were special, a'hm tellin ye'h."

"With great sentimental value, I presume?" asked the Korun Jedi next, stroking his chin thoughtfully while looking at fiddling and restless wee Obi-Wan who was a good two meters away from Auld Angus. "Though I wonder why an item like that would be out in the open.

"Its fer customers tae see Shop specialties," was the gruff reply. "Of course a'h show 'em m'ah best. A'h cannae hae 'em lookin' fer others ye'h ken."

"Difficult, this decision is. Last apprentice shopkeeper was-"

"A'h ken wha' happened wi' i'm. Ye'h ferget that wi still talk e'ry now an then. Ye'h all act s'if a'h turned 'im tae the Dark Side me'hself!" Angus cut off sharply, earning him an astonished look from Obi-Wan, a narrowed glare from Master Windu, a raised eyebrow from the still nameless crèche master, and an amused expression from Master Yoda. "He ain't a wee bairn nae mo'e, he's a big brawd bastard that made his own decisions. 'Sides, wee Obi-Wan ain't 'im"

"True, that is. However, reluctant we remain. A better arrangement, proper it would be." Yoda then turned to Obi-Wan. "A responsibility this is, learn it you must. All must."

Which was true, maybe Master Yoda thought it would be a good lesson in teaching Obi-Wan responsibility as a child. Since it's hard to take responsibility in a temple that had droids that performed almost all the chores. Homework didn't count because that was pretty much routine and a little something new won't hurt.

"A'h ken, a'h ken. The bairn works fer me fer the weekends, an he gets 'one before sundown 'stead of stayin' wi me fer t'eh nite." There were a few more negotiated conditions like 'never send the boy on errands to the red light district' or 'never leave Coruscanti space'. All in all, there has been a nice arrangement made afterwards and now Obi-Wan found himself a schedule on working outside the temple (the time frame needed wasn't specified so it was slightly scary because, what if he had to work for Scary Auld Man Angus forever?) and an armful of packaged parcel.

"Wear da't tae work. A'h cannae hae ye'h lookin' like a temple bairn. Might hae drive me'h clientele away." Angus nodded towards Master Yoda . "See ye'h on teh morrow."

Angus left the chambers with a rickety walk, complaining that his hips weren't as strong as they used to be.

Obi-Wan just stared. Stared.

That was when he realized that it was adults_ really_ were the ones that made the world go round because no one listened to kids. Unless they're trying to be excellent dark lords.

There was done awkward silence hanging around the chamber, because Angus just left without being dismissed after the conclusion of the conversation. Master Windu coughed.

"It's alright Obi-Wan." The boy looked up with a blush when he heard the slight chastisement (or maybe that was just Master Windu's default tone?) present in the master's voice. "You can go rest."

"Oh... Um, understood master." The redhead gave the two masters a quick bow before leaving the chambers with a bewildered air about him.

With Obi-Wan gone, the crèche master, that everyone almost forgot that was present, rubbed that spot between his eyes. Obi-Wan the headache was pretty strong today. If Bruck, the nausea, joined in, he was definitely going to ask for a sabbatical this time.

"How much hallucinogenic mushrooms did the Force consumed today?" he asked. There was no need to ask if the Shenanigans Involving Master Yoda were the Will Of The Force or not, because whether one asked Master Yoda or not, the answer would almost always be yes. However, asking if the Force consumed any sort of mind-altering drugs seemed... reasonable.

"Will of the Force, perhaps it is or perhaps it is not." Oh wonderful, it was worse if Master Yoda gave a reply that was neither confirmation nor negation. Everything was easier with the Dark Side, laugh evilly, be constantly misunderstood because users tend to be power hungry and paranoid, and then die in either a blaze of glory or end up poisoned by a treacherous apprentice.

A few buildings away, a strange chill ran down a Nubian Senator's spine. He disposed of the body properly... Didn't he?

Back in the chamber, Master Windu wondered how long did Matter Yoda's species really lived. One needed to be prepared to be sure that whoever replaced the old grandmaster did not have questionable sanity and/or extreme love for cryptic riddles and simply went straight to the point because wars had been waged over these sort of things.

"Will of another power, this is. In search of a successor, Auld Angus is."

"Master Yoda, just in case you forgot, the last successor didn't turn out good. And why do we still have bullying reports and why are the knights and padawans still screwing in cleaning cupboards instead of doing each other in their rooms? We have motherfucking lectures about motherfuxking sex in private!" Oh, it was one of _those_ moods, the crèche matter thought dourly. He needed a quick escape if he didn't want to spend the next four hours listening to Master Windu complain about cost-cutting, and that just because they release their emotions to the Force doesn't mean they shouldn't talk to the licensed therapists the Republic paid that knew what they were doing and how to help instead of having mind healers mentally remove the cause of their internal turmoil and then unwittingly serve as some sort of emotional crutch because they provide quicker stability than therapists do.

The Dark Side have no need for therapists, they just have the corrupted servants scream in rage at the heavens or massacre a village or have the poor sod simmer in rage while plotting revenge. It was starting to become appealing...

But the crèche master, who was finally rewarded with a name because it's difficult to refer to him just by title (in which his name was Will), have around a dozen of screaming brats to attend and it was better sleeping with an armful of children than a knife under the pillow anyways.

"Masters, I would be taking my leave. I don't want to rescue Aalto from another angry wookie, _again_. Better do some damage control before things go out of hand." Will didn't even wait for a response. He just... Left.

"See? You'd think that every Jedi follows our whims! But they all fucking do what they all fucking want! Is Qui-Gon special for just being a smart ass with us? Oh hell no!"

Master Yoda hummed a reply and then, "get laid you must, again. With Qui-Gon preferably, again."

Matter Windu just grumbled.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I have no idea what just happened. One moment I was writing something fairytale-esque, then the next I seemed to have consumed crack. Huh. I don't know, it was somewhere around the lines where Garen and Reeft showed up before things went out of hand. I don't even... Huh. HUH. Well, I definitely see myself continuing this, because it made me laugh. It was supposed to be something like a grim-dark oneshot, but it turned partly 'breaking the fourth wall comedic (for me, at least) commentary'. I'm not pointing any fingers or anything. Some of the stuff I wrote up there are just some of the things I noticed in fanfics, and I wanted to try something where Obi-Wan and the other kids from the temple _ARE _kids and they are capable of cruelty and kindness in equal measures. Even if Obi-Wan is mature for his age, I don't think he would be mature enough yet not to laugh at a crude joke. He's eight, so he needs to be portrayed as eight. I mean, my eleven year old sister giggles (ever since she was freaking six) whenever someone says vagina, so I feel justified.

Also I ended referencing a lot of shit. Like that guide about being an effective evil overlord. There was this rule that said: if a five-year old kid can find a way to derail your evil master plan, scrap it. Some Snakes in a Plane reference there, and maybe... Possible Monty Python shout outs in the future? Maybe in a scene where someone gets their limbs chopped off._.. (Giggles immaturely at remembering RotS)._

_If there are any spelling or grammatical errors around, please tell! I wrote this mostly in my phone, so I might have missed a few things._

Well, that's all for now and I hope you guys enjoyed this!


	2. Bruck

**The Shopkeeper**

_Bruck_

Obi-Wan was a big oaf, and he was clumsy and cried easily when pushed far enough.

It wasn't Bruck's fault that Obi-Wan was girly and liked to hang out with Garen and would pout like an adorable kitten when Crèche Master Will pried him off from Bant when it was almost time for bed. It was definitely Obi-Wan's fault.

The redhead was stupid, Bruck thought as he watched the boy show off his new clothes to his friends. Obi-Wan wasn't allowed to look that huggable while letting his friends inspect his stupid white-button up shirt with the cute bow tie and the shorts that just reached mid-thigh and the socks that just reached mid-calf. So what if Obi-Wan had a new job and wouldn't be around the temple as often anymore? It's a better arrangement because it wasn't like Bruck looked for him whenever he can just to tease him. Right?

"Stupid Oafy-Wan," Bruck muttered, because the redhead was almost as red as his hair when Garen said something stupid that made him splutter, but then smiled fondly because he was friends with Garen so he would always light up whenever the other boy talked.

If Bruck had his way, he'd be picking on Garen, but Obi-Wan was easier to tease. But it was stupid when he started getting watery-eyed and then stomp off. Can't Kenobi take a joke?

Not Bruck's fault, because it was stupid Oafy-Wan that tripped on him and blushed like a baby sloth when he apologized. It was stupid Oafy-Wan that made butterflies soar inside Bruck's stomach when Oafy-Wan's eyes looked bright and kind when he said sorry. It was Obi-Wan's fault that Bruck wanted to kiss his pouty and pink lips, and hold his hand.

"Obi-Wan is an intelligent young man, albeit dense, but certainly not stupid. What made you say that?" Bruck almost jumped at the sound of Master Will's voice. The older Jedi was looking at the quartet with a lazy gaze, all the while keeping an eye in the other initiates running around the rec room. "You do know that Obi-Wan always run off to me when you're being mean to him, right? You two used to be good friends... What changed?"

Bruck scowled. That was true, but there were cooler things than Obi-Wan being a cute oaf. "He's weird."

Master Will's automatic response would have been a denial, but thinking about it, Obi-Wan being weird _was_ true. Not necessarily a bad thing. Just... _Worrisome_. Especially on the times he caught the boy having multiple conversations with thin air. There was therapy for this... Right?

"He's a good weird," Matter Will said instead. It was technically true, Obi-Wan was genuinely good at heart. An old saying from his home planet suddenly popped into mind, with Matter Windu's voice saying "it's always the nice ones". The curly-haired brunet was about to shrug the thought of before he wondered better about it. Better safe than sorry.

Bruck, on the other hand, was dead set on proving that Obi-Wan wasn't a good weird. "He always hangs out with those losers and he plays barefoot in flowers. He talks to imaginary friends too!"

Oh Force, it can't be good if other younglings notice that. Though, if the voices didn't say anything about murdering them all in their sleep, maybe Will can let Obi-Wan skip out on that therapy...

"Alright, he talks to invisible people, that can't be bad, right? We talk to the Force, even if it's invisible too."

"Yeah, well, in meditation so we can release our emotions. But Obi-Wan just complains about stuff like 'Bruck was being mean to me' or 'I miss my mama's stories about the people under the hill'! It's stupid and I wish he would-" Bruck stopped, suddenly uncomfortable and confused. Which then led to the default reaction- annoyance. "His friends are stupid because Obi-Wan doesn't whine to them about those! They're not that good or special because they don't listen to him when he's being sad or homesick!"

Bruck huffed and glared at a random part on the wall.

Will could already feel Obi-Wan the headache pounding, but he realized that he won't be technically present in the lives of these crazy generation of younglings once they hit puberty. Still, he could feel the headaches reserved for their future caretakers. There was still some amusement there though, it reminded him a little of his days with Master Tristan Lecter. Good times...

For now, damage control.

"So his friends aren't there when he misses his parents. I'm sure everyone here misses their parents, but no one talks about it much," Will paused, wondering if the children were also supposed to receive therapy, even if they have distinct memories of their parents. It must be jarring to them, to suddenly lose a familiar security blanket. Three years, two years, hell even a _month's_ amount of love _meant_ something. Even if babies or toddlers couldn't remember the details, they couldn't forget that one upon a time, they were loved.

Will was suddenly reminded of his own experiences - crying in the middle of the night in the crèche because he missed his 'pa', the boat yards from his homeplanet, and his dogs in the boathouse. He frowned and shook his head. That was in the past.

"But I don't see anything wrong with that. Maybe Obi-Wan needs a good cry. Everyone does too, though. Oh Bruck, did you know tears are sadness leaving the body?"

Bruck, however, was having a moment of shocked realization. If he made Obi-Wan tear up, it meant that... Bruck made Obi-Wan sad enough that he had to release it in tears!

Obi-Wan being angry was fine, even if Bruck felt like he was punched in the gut when Obi-Wan would say something meaner or smarter than he did, and he would start to look more and more like the bad guy in Obi-Wan's story. It was okay when Obi-Wan ignored him even if he felt small and insignificant because Obi-Wan won't acknowledge his existence. Bruck didn't mind if Obi-Wan would look for a different hall to pass just so they wouldn't end up bumping to each other when he was waiting on the other side just so he can see Obi-Wan.

"I make him sad?" Bruck asked, distraught. "I... I didn't mean to."

"I thought... He wasn't..." Bruck bit his lip, he didn't know what to say - what to think. He just... He would cry when he's sad too! But not always, and he didn't cry over small things like girls did! He just thought Obi-Wan was being a girl so he would cry for no reason! He just... Obi-Wan always complained to his friends about 'Bruck being stupid again' and then would cry to his invisible friends because 'Bruck was mean to me, why me?' and Bruck just thought that Obi-Wan was trying to be a big boy in front of Garen, Reeft, and Bant! He didn't want Obi-Wan to be sad! He just... He just wanted Obi-Wan to... He...

"Come here, you." Will took Bruck into his arms and hugged him tight. He smoothed down the boy's snow-white hair while humming an old tune he used to hear from his pa. Bruck had no idea how long passed when Master Will began to talk again.

"I know you don't want Obi-Wan to be sad, and I know you don't always mean what you say to him. So, I'm going to ask, is Obi-Wan really an oaf? You can tell me, and we'll keep it a secret."

Bruck bit his lip, his fists tightening against Master Will's tunic. He didn't answer immediately. Obi-Wan wasn't always an oaf, sometimes he was, but Obi-Wan can perform katas like it was an elegant dance. Obi-Wan wasn't bad in classes, they competed in grades sometimes, and Obi-Wan can be funny too. Obi-Wan had a pretty smile, and...

And maybe, Bruck missed seeing Obi-Wan smile at him. When Garen, Bant, and Reeft started hanging out with Obi-Wan, and when Bruck started hanging out with Aalto, they started seeing each other less and less until they barely talked anymore. Then there was that time in the mess hall when Obi-Wan tripped on him and that was when Bruck remembered that one time they made a pillow fort on Obi-Wan's first night, because Obi-Wan was crying because he was never going to see his mama and papa and 'wee bonnie brither' ever again.

"No... He's not a stupid oaf," Bruck sniffled. "He just... He just has friends better than me."

Master Will shifted, rubbing circles behind Bruck's back. "That's not true. You had been a good friend to Obi-Wan. You two just forgot how. I'm sure he cries because he misses you too. He used to crawl to you in bed when he has a nightmare, or when he misses his parents, remember?"

And Bruck missed those nights too. Especially the nights when he could do the same, and Obi-Wan would smile and hold his hand while they slept. But they can't do those things anymore because 'Bruck always bullied Obi-Wan', and Obi-Wan hated him. Master Will just thought that Obi-Wan didn't, but Master Will wasn't the one who teased Obi-Wan until he cried. Master Will didn't make Obi-Wan complain to imaginary friends about Bruck being mean so he had no one to hold his hand at night when he had a nightmare. Obi-Wan already have better friends, why would he want Bruck back?

"How about this? Why don't you apologize to Obi-Wan and not say anything mean? If he crawls into your bed at night, then he doesn't hate you."

"If he doesn't?" _Then he hates me. I know he does_.

"Just give it a bit of time. Obi-Wan might need some time to adjust. So when you apologize, you have to mean it and promise never to mean to him ever again and stick to your promise, okay?" Will waited for the boy to respond. When Bruck didn't, he suppressed a deep sigh. "You don't have to do it right now, but please, promise me you will? Alright?"

Bruck made no vocal response, he nodded instead.

"Good. Come on, you're a mess cher, let's get you cleaned up." Will didn't wait for Bruck to answer, carrying the boy instead, before approaching one of the padawans that were assigned to watch. "Call for someone to escort Kenobi to the old bag, I have to help up one of the tykes."

The twi'lek teen nodded and Will patted her on the head. "I'll be back shortly."

Will Danes the Crèche Matter sighed, unsurprised that the weight in his arms fell asleep.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Don't ask me what happened here either. This was supposed to be some sort of humorous confession that 'maybe wee Bruck has an unrequited crush on Obi-Wan', but I ended up shedding a tear while writing.

Well... Looks like the main character has yet to get a chapter on his point of view, so he gets one on the next. Yay!

I'm hoping to hear from you guys and thanks for reading! :D

Edit: Fixed some words messed up by my mobile's spell checker.


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